Chapter 21: Goodbyes
The waiter appeared soundlessly, presenting the sleek black leather folio with a slight bow. Before Amanda could even reach for her small clutch, Mark’s hand closed over it, his fingers warm against hers.
“Please, let me,” he murmured, his voice low and firm. He didn’t wait for an argument, smoothly extracting his wallet. “Tonight was… special. My treat.” He slid a credit card into the folio without even glancing at the total.
Amanda felt a familiar flutter – part gratitude, part that ingrained Adam-instinct that insisted he pay his share. But Mark’s decisive gesture, coupled with the warmth in his eyes, silenced it. “Thank you, Mark,” she said softly, her voice warm. “It really was special.” She watched him sign the slip, his signature a confident slash, a tangible seal on the evening.
The waiter vanished with the folio. A comfortable silence descended, less charged than before, filled with the muffled symphony of the restaurant – the low murmur of other diners, the distant clatter from the kitchen, the soft chime of glassware. They sat for a few minutes longer, neither rushing the moment. Amanda traced the rim of her water glass, the cool condensation dampening her fingertip. Mark watched her, a small, contented smile playing on his lips, his leg pressing gently against hers beneath the table. It felt natural, unforced. The intensity of earlier confessions and touches had settled into a warm afterglow.
“Ready?” Mark asked softly, his gaze encompassing the room and then returning to her.
Amanda nodded, a genuine smile blooming. “Ready.”
Mark stood, effortlessly pulling her chair back as she rose. Then, his arm slipped firmly around her waist, pulling her close against his side as they navigated the maze of tables towards the entrance. It wasn't just protective; it was a declaration. Mine. The warmth and solidity of him, the subtle pressure of his hand splayed possessively on her hip bone through the dress, anchored her in the most thrilling way. She leaned into it, feeling the confident energy radiating from him, a stark contrast to the hidden anxieties Adam usually carried.
The blast of cool, damp night air hit them as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. September’s chill was beginning to bite, carrying the clean, wet-pavement smell of a recent shower. The streetlights cast long, liquid reflections on the slick cobblestones of the pedestrianized zone. La Scala’s warm glow receded behind them, replaced by the cooler luminescence of shop windows and the amber haze of street lamps. Mark tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer against the chill and the slight breeze that tugged at her hair.
“Brr,” Amanda murmured, instinctively pressing into his warmth. “Summer’s definitely packing its bags. Maybe I should have worn a jacket anyway.”
===
Mark immediately shrugged out of his tailored blazer. "Here," he said, draping it gently over her shoulders before she could protest. The wool blend was still warm from his body, carrying the comforting, expensive scent of cedar and clean cotton.
Amanda snuggled into it, the weight and the lingering heat enveloping her. She smiled up at him, a genuine flush of pleasure warming her cheeks. "Thank you," she said softly, pulling the lapels closer. The simple act of him giving her his jacket felt incredibly, protectively feminine. It grounded her deeper into Amanda’s skin.
They stood close on the quiet sidewalk, the occasional pedestrian passing by under the amber streetlights. Mark’s arm stayed firmly around her waist, his thumb rubbing a slow arc against her hip bone through the silk of her dress and the wool of his jacket.
"So... when will I see you again?" Amanda asked, tilting her head to look up at him, her eyes sparkling with hopeful anticipation in the soft light. The question felt bold, thrilling.
Mark’s expression clouded slightly. "Well, unfortunately," he began, his voice tinged with genuine regret, "I’m going to an architecture conference in Riversford next weekend." He squeezed her waist gently. "I leave Thursday after work and won't get back until Sunday evening. So I’m afraid we can’t meet next weekend."
Amanda’s smile faltered, a visible dip in her shoulders betraying her disappointment. "Oh," she breathed out, looking down at the damp cobblestones. The prospect of nearly two weeks without seeing him felt like a sudden void. "Riversford’s far. The capital."
Mark watched her face, the spark of disappointment. A slow, thoughtful smirk began to play on his lips. "Unless..." he started, drawing out the word.
Amanda’s head snapped up, eyes instantly brightening, searching his face for the unspoken possibility. A silver lining? "Unless?" she echoed, hope lifting her voice.
His smirk widened into a full, charming grin. "Unless you can get off work," Mark suggested, his eyes holding hers intently. "You could join me." He saw her sharp intake of breath, the flush deepen on her neck. "I’ve rented an Airbnb apartment. Plenty of room for the both of us." He paused, gauging her reaction. "You’d have to spend the days alone while I’m at sessions, but I’m sure a girl like you can find ways to spend time in Riversford. Museums, cafes, shopping... exploring."
Amanda’s face lit up, transforming completely. Pure, unadulterated joy radiated from her. "Oh god, I would love that, Mark!" The words tumbled out, her hand flying to his chest in excitement. The thought of days alone in the vibrant capital, followed by evenings with him, was intoxicating. "I’ll ask my boss Monday!" Her mind raced – packing, the train journey, navigating the city as Amanda. "She can be a little stern," she added, her excitement momentarily tempered by practicalities, "but she’s usually good at switching shifts if people need time off. Especially with notice." She beamed at him, the image of bustling Riversford streets already forming. "I'll make it work."
===
"Perfect!" Mark replied instantly, his grin widening. "It will certainly be a much more entertaining trip with you there," he added with a deliberate wink, his thumb tracing a slow, suggestive circle on her hipbone beneath his draped blazer.
Amanda chuckled, a warm, throaty sound, and felt the familiar blush creep up her neck. She knew exactly what he was hinting at – long nights tangled in unfamiliar sheets. A whole lot of sex, probably, but also quiet coffees, shared discoveries, romantic moments exploring the city together. The image sent a delicious shiver through her, distinct from the evening chill.
Headlights swept around the corner, washing the wet cobblestones in a sudden, stark yellow glow. A sleek black taxi pulled smoothly to the curb beside them, its engine a low, impatient rumble. The interruption felt abrupt, slicing through their intimate bubble.
"Let's talk Monday, after work?" Mark suggested quickly, his hand tightening briefly on her waist. His gaze held hers, intense despite the practical question. "We can sort out trains, times... all the details."
Amanda nodded, pulling his blazer tighter around her shoulders, inhaling the comforting scent of cedar and Mark. "Sounds like a deal," she agreed, her voice steady despite the sudden flutter in her stomach. Tomorrow felt both impossibly far and terrifyingly close.
Mark leaned down, his lips finding hers in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened. It wasn't just goodbye; it was a promise, a taste of the weekend to come. His tongue briefly touched hers, sending sparks down her spine. He pulled back just enough to murmur against her mouth, his breath warm. "I'll call you tomorrow afternoon. Around five?"
"Yes," Amanda breathed, her lips tingling. "Five." She reluctantly stepped towards the waiting taxi door Mark held open.
He helped her slide into the cool, leather-scented interior. As she settled, arranging her dress and his blazer, Mark leaned in one last time. His hand brushed her cheek. "Dream of Riversford," he whispered, his eyes dark and full of intent. Then he gently closed the door.
The taxi pulled away. Amanda twisted in her seat, watching Mark's tall figure grow smaller on the sidewalk, haloed by the amber streetlight until he vanished around the corner. The sudden silence inside the car felt vast, filled only by the hum of the engine and the rhythmic swish of the wipers clearing a light misting rain from the windshield.
She leaned back against the headrest, closing her eyes for a moment. The taste of him lingered on her lips, mingling with the fading memory of chocolate torte and espresso. Her thigh still felt the phantom pressure of his possessive hand beneath the tablecloth. The scent of his jacket enveloped her, a tangible reminder pressed against her skin. She touched her lips again, a small, private smile playing on them as the city lights blurred past the rain-streaked window. She adjusted the lapels of his blazer, breathing him in deeply. Riversford. Next weekend.